Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27617 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27617 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
“Good, we’ll stop in and pick up breakfast.”
“But—”
“You’re not quitting,” he growls out, making it sexy. How come none of the rumors talked about how sexy Dr. Nathan Amherst is? I feel like that should have been mixed in there. “I’m your boss. You are to do as I say.”
“Okay,” I agree. It’s like he can’t stop turning me on. I need out of this car before I jump him like a cat in heat. “I go in the back.” I point for him to go around the corner. When he comes to a stop, I jump out of the car. I already have my keys in my hand. “Thanks for the ride,” I shout, putting the key into the lock. I start to open it, but a hand comes down, stopping me. I turn around to look up at Nathan.
“You’re not quitting,” he reminds me again. “I’ll be here in the morning.” He drops his hand from the door. I slip in and quickly lock it behind me. I lean against it and close my eyes. I take a deep breath, trying to pull myself together. That only lasts a few seconds before my phone starts to ring. I pull it out from my purse. It’s my mom. I’m not sure what to tell her about today. I’m not sure if it was horrible or the best day of my life. I suppose I’ll find out soon enough.
Five
Dr. Nathan Amherst
I have a hard time sleeping. I keep envisioning Kayla and me engaging in all sixty-four positions enumerated in the Kama Sutra and a handful more that are probably not physically possible but exist in my mind. Before dawn, I haul my weary carcass out of bed and go for a run. After two hours, my legs are near dead, but my cock is very much alive. I stroke an unsatisfactory orgasm out in the shower, imagining Kayla pinned against the glass while I pound into her from behind. Out of the shower, I dress, and since there’s no point in sitting around my house, I go to work. There are still hours to go before I can drive over to the bakery.
The department is empty. I sit down at my computer, but my eyes keep straying to the desk near the door. If I take her computer away, she won’t be able to type out a resignation letter. Of course, if she has a computer at home getting rid of her work one doesn’t solve the problem. I need Dean Campbell to rip up the resignation letter, but what do I tell him? That she threatened to quit after I kissed her? He’d make me sit through a dozen lectures on harassment in the workplace, and I’d get behind on my project. Obviously I shouldn’t have kissed her. The thing is...I can’t even promise that I won’t when I see her again. I slam my hand against my desk.
Everything needs to be taken one step at a time. First, I will drive over to her place, and we will get coffee and pastries and talk this out like rational adults. Second, we will drive back here and conduct our work. Third, if I continue to have inappropriate fantasies about Kayla, I will take care of them with my own hand. If none of that works, then I will kidnap her and keep her in a cabin in the woods until she agrees that the best thing to do is lie around naked in my bed all day.
I grab my Tesla keys and head for the parking garage. Mo Bow is not far away, and while it’s still too early, I feel better sitting outside her apartment than back at the university in our empty office.
Wait.
Our office?
It’s been one day, and I’m already changing my pronouns. I frown. This type of rapid attachment isn’t good. Isn’t it what led me to claim her mouth in the elevator when I could have rubbed her back or had her do jumping jacks or basically anything other than attacking her and making her want to quit?
I decide to get out of the car and see if she’s awake. Some people are early risers. I am. There’s no reason to think she’s still asleep. Hell, she could be impatiently waiting for me or writing that damned resignation letter.
I take the stairs two at a time. At her door, I lift my fist to pound on it when it occurs to me that I should bring a peace offering. Downstairs in the café, I pick out a dozen donuts and four different kinds of coffee. She didn’t say what kind she liked, so I opted for a dark roast, light roast, a mocha latte, and an iced Americano. Armed with breakfast, I return to her apartment. My hands are full so I can’t knock properly. I end up banging my elbow against the steel door.